


On the importance of feelings and how the universe is not at fault

by FeatherQuill



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 23:05:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19327936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherQuill/pseuds/FeatherQuill
Summary: In which some things are easy and angels can be quite thick. Or how Crowley makes a point.





	On the importance of feelings and how the universe is not at fault

**Author's Note:**

> First of all This is for Annett - whom is one of the loveliest people I have ever met :)  
> Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think <3

_There are many things in the universe that cannot be explained. The things that _shouldn´t_ be but are because not everyone agrees with the universe as it is. Sometimes the universe as it is just sucks – as humans nearing adulthood but not having quite reached it yet – would put it. _

_The universe was not really at fault here because when created it never was manufactured for unexpected events - unexpected events being like that of an angel and a demon not only being what the human population would call friends but - well more. And thus a chain of events happened after the end of the world didn´t and the universe had nothing to do with it. Not much anyways._

 

“A cottage?”

Aziraphale had heard Crowley utter many ludicrous things in the time they had spent together – mostly. They had long since crossed boundaries and would never be able to go back to pretending they were just, for a lack of better term , colleagues. The angel cringed inwardly while thinking that before trying to figure out if the demon was pulling his chain yet again as his friend had done so many times over the long years they had known each other but he knew the answer already as well as he knew that he would be lying to himself when saying that they were friends, that they could never be more and angels just didn´t lie.

“Yes.”

Crowley just says, gazing at him over a copy of Harry Potter the demon is fond of and Aziraphale is just mildly concerned over his cussing about the whole snake speak thing not being what snakes really sound like. Crowley would know, wouldn´t he and yet he didn´t correct that because it wasn´t his business to meddle with mundane human things. Not that the angel didn´t know the real reason was that Crowley wanted to keep up appearances to deflect that he liked the imagination humans had because they didn´t know what they did. A blessing of sorts. 

“You – and me. Living together?”

For a moment Crowley looks like he wants to whack Aziraphale over the head with the book he no longer is reading just to check if his brain is functioning the right way and barely refrains from doing so, opting for sliding from his perch on the sofa , coming to a halt mere inches from Aziraphale in his arm chair, the angel clutching his glass of wine harder than strictly necessary.

“Yeah. Nice garden, plently of room for books, lovely kitchen to cook in if you feel peckish. No need for popping away for crepes in times of revolution.”

Aziraphale still blushes at the memory but for different reasons than being foolish. He knew back then. He knew _before_ then. He knew for certain in a church in times of war. He just didn´t want to look at it to closely because of their sides. Invisible lines that weren´t there anymore and wasn´t that just lovely and terrifying at once. 

“Why?”

This time Crowley really whacks him over the back of his head, fingers tangling in the angels blond curls without really hurting and mindful that no innocent wine is spilled in the process. He was a demon not a brute. 

_Often the things that are not said are the loudest in a room, a fact the universe also is aware of but angels not really. Not until they are nudged just a little bit, it seems._  
“Oh.”

Aziraphale says, slowly and actually breathing although he doesn´t need to but neither does Crowley and his chest is almost heaving. Their foreheads touch, a lovely combination of flame red hair mixing with stray blond curls. The glass of wine is carefully put down in favor of the hands previously holding it removing a pair of sunglasses.

“Lovely. I can see it now.”

Crowley doesn´t move an inch. Neither of them does for a moment.

“Yeah?”

The angel just nods, lips hovering before ghosting over Crowleys own. He is secretly pleased by knowing Gabriel and Michael along with all of hell will likely throw a fit but his focus lies elsewhere.

“Yes. A home for us, dear. How..lovely and wicked. Wonderful.”

He cannot say anything else because Crowley turns his rather chaste kiss into not being so chaste anymore.

_The funny thing about most things concerning feelings is that there is no way to stopping them, even if forces are against them. So it is entirely natural that even a demon and an angel can move into a cottage in South Downs, after the price is miraculously lowered. It is also natural that no other angels and demons come by when renovations are made and a kind of human life begins that some would call domestic._

_Small kitchen fires included or plants being yelled at for not meeting expectations.  
Even if the universe has nothing to do with all of this, it is secretly pleased in the end._

 

****

End


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